


Better Is a Relative Concept

by hugemind



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s06e07 Family Matters, M/M, Non Consensual, Soulless Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-12
Updated: 2011-04-12
Packaged: 2017-11-02 12:43:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/369096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hugemind/pseuds/hugemind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is one way to find out how much of Sam is missing. An alternate version of the soul-fisting scene in 6x07.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better Is a Relative Concept

**Author's Note:**

> The noncon is as noncon as you can get with someone who doesn't care or feel. Unbeta'ed. Originally posted to LJ on April 12, 2011.

 

 

"Sam, what are you feeling now?" Cas asks, circles around Sam and the chair he's tied to. Dean watches them, this weird Sam with a bloody face and slippery lies.

"I feel like my nose is broken."

Dean can't find any emotion in that tone. Sam should at least feel pain from the cuts and bruises Dean left, from the rough rope wound around his chest and wrists. Dean makes tight fists and the skin on his knuckles stings, bones feel like they've been misaligned. _This_ , this is what Sam should feel: misaligned. But Sam just sits there like a stranger who doesn't know what Castiel is or what he can do. Dean wants either to punch Sam again or to throw up. Maybe both.

"No, that's a physical sensation. How do you feel?"

"I think--"

"Feel!" Cas shouts. The angel rarely raises his voice; Dean flinches. It's like ice being poured down his skin.

"I don't know."

Sam looks like nothing can touch him. His cuts only coincidental, unrelated on his blank face.

There is a moment of silence and Cas gives Dean this look with meaning that Dean can't decipher. Then Castiel undoes his belt, slides it out with a quiet _swoosh_. Dean doesn't know where this is going.

"Cas?" Sam stills, his eyes wide, mouth open. It's not fear coloring them, it's confusion. By this point, Dean would prefer Sam making scared little whimpers or screaming more than this robotic version of him that's programmed to spew out facts. He'd do anything to have emotion to return to Sam's eyes.

Cas drops the belt on the floor, the buckle clanking loudly against the wood. "I'm sorry Sam, but have to find out if you feel anything. If you _can_ feel anything."

The angel unbuttons his slacks, pulls down the zipper. Reflexes get Dean to take a step forward to protect Sammy, to beat Cas down in a fit of rage that's born equally out of jealousy and protectiveness. No one harms Sam, no one touches what is Dean's. Castiel should know that. But Dean's not sure if that's Sam anymore, and he sees what Cas is trying to do. He backs down, thinks this is going to hurt him a lot more than Sam.

"What? Dean!" Sam shouts. Outrage, not panic. Not even a hint of the puppy eyes that always get Sam what he wants. Maybe this thing wearing Sam doesn't know how to arrange Sam's face into that. Chills run down Dean's spine.

Dean forces himself to stand still and see this through. This is the deepest emotion that runs in Sam, Dean knows it because it's the same with him. The connection between them has been tested time and time again: Stanford, Ruby, Lucifer. It's always been there even if it has sometimes been strained to its limit. Hell, their connection is the reason for all the craziest stunts they've ever pulled, and it _has to be there_. A world without it is a world where Dean has no brother.

Castiel grabs Sam's jaw, forces his mouth open by pressing on the joint. Sam fights against the hold, struggles against the ropes, more out of instinct than anything. The black pants drop to Castiel's knees when he pulls his underwear to his thighs, pushes his cock into Sam's wet, resisting mouth.

Dean can't move, rooted to the spot, scared to see what this will uncover. Sam's eyes are wide open, the set of his jaws looks painful, and the corners of his eyes are shimmering from tears forming there. But he takes Castiel's dick--always so beautiful when his mouth is used--and doesn't fight.

Castiel pumps into Sam's mouth like that's all he knows to do and maybe right now it is. Sam's choking, moaning, saliva dripping from the corner of his mouth. Dean sees the hard line of Sam's cock in his jeans. It scares Dean. Being forced, violated in front of his own brother who should be protecting him and Sam just goes with the flow and gets hard. Doesn't fight, doesn't scream, doesn't do any of the things he could if he really wanted to stop Cas.

Cas finishes on Sam's face and Sam's just snapping his hips into air, trying to get off. No guilt, no shame, no anger.

Dean gets up, numb, can't let this be true. One hand on Sam's shoulder, he presses a flat palm against Sam's dick, the coarse fabric of Sam's jeans burning into his skin from the friction. But Sam grinds, grunts and comes. He's a mess, come on his face, wet spot on his jeans, wrists probably scratched and bruised, hair mussed. He looks used.

"How do you feel, Sam?" Dean asks, voice slightly quivering. The hurt and anger in him are trying to break free and he can't let them. Can't give this _thing_ that looks like Sam the satisfaction.

Sam looks straight at Dean, eyes as cold as they were. Gives a tight, nasty smile. "Better."

 

_\--end--_


End file.
